The infirmities of genius are often mistaken for its privileges.

Love matches are made by people who are content, for a month of honey, to condemn themselves to a life of vinegar.

We never respect those who amuse us, however we may smile at their comic powers

Praise is the only gift for which people are really grateful.

Happiness consists not in having much, but in being content with little.

I see little alteration at Lyons since I formerly passed through it. Its manufactories are, nevertheless, flourishing, though less improvement than could be expected is visible in the external aspect of the place.

Thoughts come maimed and plucked of plumage from the lips, which, from the pea, in the silence of your own leisure and study, would be born with far more beauty.